


The Last Tarth

by Renee561



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: A bit of tongue in cheek humor, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, JB Week 2018, Light allusion to smut, Themed Wedding, Weddings, mention of deaths
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-21 03:10:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16151300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renee561/pseuds/Renee561
Summary: How can one bare the weight of being the last? How is that fair?





	The Last Tarth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!!  
> Happy Maiden's Day! 
> 
> This is my first JB Week for the fandom and I'm very excited! *HYPE*
> 
> This piece is unbeta'ed, therefore all mistakes are mine. I'm not perfect, I tend to ramble. A lot.
> 
> The manip is done by the fabulous Hardlyfatal! 
> 
> Enjoy!!

She loathed weddings with a passion. Mayhaps it was because she had never really pictured hers, as she had never thought she would have one. She also hated any type of flower. and dresses. Oh how she loathed dresses!

 

She didn’t understand the fanfare that went along with weddings. How can someone need to know the difference between 33 different color of reds, golds and blues? It made her head ache from just thinking of it.

 

Once, she would have rather gotten eaten by a dragon of old then deal with anything closely resembling a wedding; but not today.

 

Today she was getting married and she was excited!

 

Jaime was the type of man, she had wanted to marry if she had ever dreamed of having a wedding for herself. He was much like a knight from the songs than anyone she’s met before. He was kind, gentle, sweet, and honorable. He was a gentleman, but he was also an ass. He could be selfish, and mean, sometimes she wanted to just wrap her hands around his neck and squeeze the life from his eyes.

 

She’d miss him too much, it was the only reason she agreed to this insanity of a wedding. Tywin Lannister was a man not many liked, she didn’t, she tolerated him, but at the same time she understood where he was anxious to preserve his legacy. The Tarths were dead now, once the ceremony was over. She was the last and it stung in more ways than one.

 

Had her brother survived, or her father remarried and had another child, she wouldn’t feel this much guilt. How could she marry any man, take his name and extinguish her line? A line that has been around for at least 2,000 years. The Tarths were as old as any Lannister.

 

She walked over to her maiden's cloak, the heavy material weigh in her hands like an anvil. She wished her father was alive to see this moment, or her mother. She wished for guidance on what she should do? How does she bare the weight of her house on her shoulders tonight? Sure her children will be half Tarth, but Tywin Lannister would never allow for his legacy to be shared with a extinct house. If it wasn’t for Jaime’s choosing her as the only woman he would marry, and her ‘ _sturdy birthing hips_ ’ she would never have been allowed this close to his family.

 

She placed the blue and pink cloak with the Tarth’s coat of arms sewn expertly, onto the chaise lounge delicately. She didn’t want the responsibility of this decision. She would take Jaime’s name, as was her choice when they got engaged two years ago. Her father had been alive then, the wedding postponed because of his ill health. When they decided to go through with the wedding, she hadn’t thought to raise the question with either Jaime nor Tywin knowing that in her hearts of hearts she would carry the Lannister name because she wanted to, not because she had to.

 

She looked at the clock mounted on the wall. It was time.

 

No sooner had she thought that then a knock came at the door. It was a familiar knock and her heart jumped in her throat. _Jaime_.

 

Rushing to the door as fast as she was able, her armor clanking loudly as she hurried to open the door.

 

While it's said that for the groom to see the bride in her dress was bad luck; she was not wearing a dress, and Jaime had been the one to commission the armor for them and the wedding party. Hers was blue, with Tarth’s coat of arms raised on the breastplate. His decorated in typical Lannister fashion: Red, gold and lions.

 

It was an acknowledgement to their ancestors. Him as Ser Jaime Lannister of Casterly Rock and her as Ser Brienne of Tarth. It didn’t bother her all that much that they were distantly related, everyone in Westeros was. The small number of survivors from the Long Night made that possible. Hell some women took two husbands or a husband took two wives. Soon everyone was related by marriage or blood at the end of the day.

 

Jaime was always handsome to her, he was sculpted by the gods themselves in her humble opinion, that she longed to touch him intimately. However, one of her romantic notions, and more than enough fear kept away her from that aspect of their relationship. She was still in fact a maiden.

 

She had thought and feared that once she told Jaime no sex, he would leave. Much like the two previous relationships she had. Well there was that bet, so she didn’t count them as more than a temporary state of madness. Jaime on the other hand was fine with it. He respected her boundaries on the matter and she loved him ever more for it.

 

It was hard for the both of them, especially when it was obvious and just plain stupid that she still wanted to wait until they were married. Jaime never made her feel stupid or acted as though she was being unreasonable in her request. Yet still she felt as if he must be impatient to take her to bed, and she was being a tease.

 

He smiled at her and she felt as if all the air escaped from her lungs as he looked her over from head to toe, and moved closer towards her, the glint in his eye predatory.

 

She backed up as far as she was able, and he kept coming, his foot shutting the door. Their armor clanked as he pressed her against the wall and kissed her as if he was a dying man in need of her lips to survive. She gripped his face and pulled him closer, needing his kiss as if it was the air she breathed. His hand felt cold on her nape and wished she was braver to pull him closer the way a woman would her lover.

 

“The guests?” she muttered as Jaime moved down her neck. They would explore the other, briefly, but never going further than a heated make-out session.

 

“They can wait. Pod thought you needed your knight in shining armor, so here I am, Wench. What's going on in that head of yours, hmm?” he asked into her neck.

 

She pulled his head back by his hair, she couldn't think with him so close. His green eyes were lit with concern, and she wanted to fall into his arms and have him comfort her.

 

“Just thinking at how I am the last Tarth. How my house would die as soon as you place your Lannister cloak around my shoulders. I want to marry you, don’t doubt that, but it really hit me as I was reaching for the cloak,” she bit her lip and stared at him imploringly. To make him realize that she loved him and wanted to be his wife, and that she didn’t regret anything about them.

 

She should have just kept her mouth shut. Why did she tell him this? Now he will think that she doesn’t want to marry him, which she does; she can’t wait to be his wife.

 

He cupped her face with his hands and stroked her cheek. She loved his hands, and his face, and his body, just him. _Just Jaime_. Every part of him she loved, even when she wanted to choke the life from him, she still loved him. Part of the reason he was still alive was that she didn’t want to live a life without him.

 

“I know, Wench. I knew you were having the thoughts after your father passed, that’s why it took us so long to get the marriage licence; I had to make sure father didn’t find out until after it was processed,” he told her with a wicked smirk on his face.

 

She blinked at him in confusion and her brows furrowed, as his smirked turned into that famous Lannister grin that she wanted to both smack and kiss off his face.

 

He maneuvered his hair from her grip, and kissed the hand that had been entangled within the thick, golden locks. He tugged her over to the chaise lounge and dropped her hand in favor of grabbing her maiden cloak.

 

“Turn around, my lady, the guests await,” he told her kindly.

 

She frowned but did as he bade. He wrapped her cloak around her and as his hands brushed her cheek, she released the worry she held inside.

 

It didn’t matter anymore if there were Tarths or Lannisters in the world. It didn’t matter if her father’s cloak would never be put over the shoulders of another bride to be called Tarth. Or taken from the shoulders of a Tarth bride. In this moment, Jaime was cloaking his bride. She was a Tarth and a Tarth she will always be.

 

\--

It was strange to her that he took her name. Strange and wonderful, and she wondered why he hadn’t told her of his plan. Of course Tywin hadn’t been happy about it, they would hear of his displeasure after their honeymoon. If they ever left for it; there was one thing about marrying into the Lannister family, that they truly did shit gold.

 

Jaime kissed her bare shoulder, and she groaned as his hand came around her side to cup her breast.

 

“We have a plane to catch,” she half protested as his beard scratched her skin as his mouth found new places to explore.

 

“Mrs. Tarth, I do believe you forget that your husband is a Lannister by birth. It leaves when we’re good and ready to leave,” he told her, and she had to focus on his words and not on the sensations of him playing her body like an instrument he’s known to play all his life.

 

“I don’t think that will be for a long while. Especially if you do that,” she panted to him as his hand traveled from her breast to her cunt.

 

He smirked into her neck, “I’m glad you understand the point, wife.” Gods did she love this man.

 

Jaime, her Jaime. Mr. Jaime Tarth. Her knight in shining armor. She thinks the best title for him is husband.  

 


End file.
